


can’t have peace without a war

by the_one_that_fell



Series: OMGCP Rare Pair Hell [14]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Rough Sex, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 05:11:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11890728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: Bitty is tired of guys treating him as if he's fragile.





	can’t have peace without a war

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [ tumblr. ](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/post/164537067982/title-cant-have-peace-without-a-war-rating)

“Why do guys think I need to be treated gently?”

Holster looked up from the plastic tub that held Shitty and Lardo’s tub juice. “Uh…”

Bitty stood in front of him, hair mussed, clothes askew, looking as angry as a corgi-sized person could. “Why do boys always treat me like I’m a porcelain doll or something? Like they’ll break me if they kiss me too hard?”

“Why are you asking  _me_ this?” Holster asked cautiously, finishing his scoop of juice into his cup.

“You’re a giant guy who sometimes makes out with boys smaller than him,” Bitty clarified, not looking any less annoyed. “What’s the thinking there?”

Holster took a long sip of his drink. “Sometimes we don’t know our own strength. Sometimes we do end up hurting people we care about.”

“But I’m not some fragile butterfly.” Bitty frowned. “I’m an NCAA athlete, too. I’d like to be treated that way.”

The tub juice was strong enough that Holster could actually feel it spreading through his body. Later he’d blame everything he said after on that. “Itty Bitty likes it rough, huh?”

The blush on Bitty’s cheeks and neck were worth the embarrassment Holster would feel later. “I don’t know,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “I think I would. Think it could…help with…things.”

Holster’s eyes widened and he couldn’t help but laugh. “You wanna get kinky in the name of improving your  _checking fear?”_

“Shut up,” Bitty murmured. “Maybe.”

Slowly, Holster set his cup down by the sink and examined Bitty head-to-toe. He’d clearly just come from some lackluster, failed hook-up, as rumpled as he was. Holster greatly enjoyed the mental image of Bitty walking away from some boring dude whose kisses disappointed, just to seek  _him_  out. There was a nervousness in Bitty’s eyes that didn’t fit with his disgruntled exterior, and Holster’s gaze kept trailing to sheen of Bitty’s lips, the faint hint of stubble burn on his cheeks. He wanted to see Bitty covered in red and purple and blue, physical mementos of where Holster had been, where he’d made his mark.

“You wanna?” He asked, ashamed at his own lack of eloquence. Bitty nodded, reaching out to grab the front of Holster’s t-shirt.

The first kiss hurt. Bitty smashed their faces together in his eagerness, clacking teeth and bruising lips. Holster gripped his hips, forcing him back slightly to readjust their position. Noting the small noise Bitty made at his touch, Holster tightened his hold, hard enough to leave a mark. Bitty gasped into his mouth, and yanked Holster's head down to deepen the kiss.

In that moment, it felt like a dam burst. Holster brushed the trash and cups off the kitchen table, ignoring the splatter of juice on the floor. Without warning, he hoisted Bitty up and tossed him onto the tabletop, pushing him back as he climbed up to straddle him. Bitty laughed in surprise and reeled Holster in by the shirt; Holster could feel the hem of the collar snapping thread-by-thread, and was grateful he was wearing a ratty old thing from high school. In one movement, he yanked the shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, not watching to see if it landed in the puddle he’d created.

As soon as Holster turned back to Bitty, Bitty’s mouth was at his neck, biting a trail down his chest. Holster faltered, brain whiting out with the pleasure and surprise of it, and Bitty used that moment to flip their positions, shoving Holster back down against the sticky wood of the table. Holster grabbed at Bitty’s thighs, running his hands higher and higher until Bitty moaned, rolling his hips against Holster’s.

With a smug grin, Bitty grabbed Holster’s wrists and pinned them above his head, teeth working at the skin under Holster’s jaw. Holster didn’t know why he was surprised by the strength of Bitty’s hands–hands that kneaded dough and handled a puck with a wicked finesse–but he could feel the bruises forming as Bitty held him down, startled at the way the pain heightened the pleasure of Bitty’s semi grinding against his own.

“Let’s- let’s go upstairs,” he said, voice cracking. “Bits-”

Eyes dark, Bitty rolled off of Holster and held out a hand to pull him to his feet. Bitty didn’t let go as he led them from the kitchen to the crowded hallway, pushing past strangers to jog up the stairs. Like a fucking gentleman, Holster held up the caution tape for Bitty to duck under, and was then yanked under himself and dragged toward Bitty’s room.

Bitty shoved Holster up against his door,  _hard_ , and something primal shifted in Holster’s mind. He grabbed Bitty under his thighs and hoisted him up, spinning them around so he could pin Bitty against the wood, rattling the door in its frame.

With a stunned grin, Bitty pulled their mouths together again, yanking on Holster’s hair until all he felt was the dull pain at his scalp and the sting of teeth scraping his lips. Holster hadn’t made out with someone like this since high school, when he first hooked up with his best friend, Dante. Then it had been all raging hormones and confusion and teenage displays of masculinity and dominance. Now, though…there was something deeper to the way Bitty was pushing him around, baring his neck for Holster to bite. The pain of it actually  _meant_  something. Holster just wasn’t sure  _what_.

Taking one hand off of Bitty’s ass, Holster fumbled with the door knob until they tumbled into Bitty’s room. He kicked it shut behind him and threw Bitty onto the bed. Bitty bounced once and landed on his knees, grin growing feral as Holster stalked toward him.

In a few seconds flat, Holster tugged Bitty’s shirt off, tossing it across the room. They came together like a perfect storm, hands scraping across skin and lips moving roughly against each other. Bitty fumbled with the zipper of Holster’s jeans, tilting his head to side so Holster could bite at the skin there. He sucked and nipped a trail down to Bitty’s collar bone, whining as Bitty ducked to pull down Holster’s pants.

Holster kicked them off all the way, then pounced on Bitty, pushing him down onto the bed. He made quick work of Bitty’s jeans, though they were significantly tighter than his own, and crawled on top of Bitty, holding his arms down on either side of his head.

Looking down, Holster realized he could stare at Bitty lying there, restrained and hard and almost naked, forever and never get tired of the sight. He kissed Bitty gently, brain growing fuzzy from desire, and only yelped a  _little_  as Bitty wrapped his legs around his waist and flipped them over.

They rutted together for a moment, the friction between them almost too intense. Holster grabbed Bitty’s wrists before he could try to hold Holster down, and they struggled against each other, laughing. Holster knew he was stronger than Bitty, knew he had a size advantage, but Bitty was far stronger than he looked. It wasn’t until Holster noticed the unfocused look in Bitty’s eyes, the filthy “O” of his mouth as he got close to the edge that Holster was able to get the upper hand and throw Bitty back against the headboard.

Bitty was flushed from his cheeks down his neck and across his chest, a dark stain leaking through his briefs. His body sort of crumpled like a rag doll, and for a second Holster was afraid he’d gone too far. But the look Bitty gave his was downright lecherous.

“Will you-?” Bitty reached out and took Holster’s hand, bringing it to his throat. “And, like, hold me down-”

“You sure?” Holster asked. Bitty nodded, biting his lip with a hopeful look, so Holster grab onto his neck and pushed him down onto the pillow. “You need to tap out, like, hit my arm, okay?” He refrained from adding,  _so I don’t hurt you_ , though it was hard.

Bitty’s eyes fluttered shut as Holster pulled him from his briefs. Holster pulled his own boxers down around one knee, and held both their cocks in his free hand. The weight of them together, the drag of skin on skin, it was all too much. Holster knew his grip was tightening on Bitty’s throat, but Bitty let out choked groans of pleasure, trapped under Holster's entirety. Holster sped up his strokes, heat and tension building faster and faster deep within.

Bitty looked up at Holster, mouth swollen and open in shallow breaths. Out of nowhere, he let out an aborted shout and his eyes rolled back, cum streaking up his belly and chest. The sight of it pushed Holster over the edge, and he came moments later, vision going spotty and warmth flooding his body.

Holster let his whole weight collapse onto Bitty, and Bitty heaved in lungfuls of air, entire body shaking with pleasure in the aftermath.

Catching his breath, Holster brushed back the hair that was plastered to Bitty’s forehead and grinned. “You ready to check some goons after all that?”

“Laugh it up, Birkholtz,” Bitty said, too breathless to sound annoyed. “And, no, I think I’d pass out if I tried to stand up, let alone skate into someone twice my size.”

“C’mere.” Holster pulled Bitty into his arms, massaging the bits of him he could reach. They exchanged a few soft, lazy kisses, cleaning the cum from Bitty with a discarded shirt, and then Bitty let his head fall against Holster’s chest, whole body going loose and pliant.

“Will you stay?” He murmured.

“‘Course,” Holster said, kissing the top of Bitty’s head. “Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

“Good,” Bitty whispered, and then he was asleep, Holster not far behind him.

* * *

Holster opened his eyes in a room that wasn’t his. Bitty was so clean, so tidy, that the smell of air freshener and clean laundry was the first thing Holster noticed, the first thing that seemed off as he slowly woke.

The second thing he noticed was the ache of his body. Holster rolled his shoulders, stretched his back, and reveled in the happy burn of his muscles. This was the first time in years he’d felt overtaxed from sex, and he was loving every second of it.

The third–and best–thing he noticed was Bitty, sprawled out on the other side of the bed, sheets tumbling off the bed in a cascade and barely covering him at all. Holster grabbed his glasses from the bedside table so he could better see the bruises and hickey that colored Bitty’s skin, follow the trails of scratches down his back.

Bitty shifted, then yawned, rolling his neck until it cracked loudly. “Mm,” he hummed, turning over to see Holster watching him. “Mornin’.”

The front of Bitty’s neck was a rose garden of hickies. Holster felt oddly proud of his handiwork, and reached out a couple of fingers to brush over the angry, red blooms. Bitty sucked in a sharp breath, and Holster wondered worriedly if he’d hit a bruise.

“I think we should, um, talk about last night,” he said, pulling his hand away.  

Bitty’s face turned white and he nodded slowly. “Right. Um. This doesn’t have to mean anything, totally casual-”

“No, Bits,” Holster interrupted, taking Bitty’s hand in both of his. “I mean, like…there was some kinky shit we did. Ransom says you have to, like, talk about that kind of stuff. Like,  _before_ ,” he added with a small grimace. “But after works, too, if we want to do this again…”

“Oh.” Bitty nodded, looking embarrassed but far less distressed. “Um. I don’t know where to start.”

“You like to get rough,” Holster prompted, tugging on Bitty until he curled up against his chest. “You give as good as you take, but there was that stuff at the end…I guess I should ask…why?” “I don’t know,” Bitty said softly. “I…It makes me feel strong. But it’s also…at the end, when you held me down? And the- the choking thing,” he added, with a blush. “It’s…sometimes I need someone else to be in control.”

Holster buried his nose in Bitty’s hair, elated at the prospect of Bitty  _trusting_  him with that. “So, roughhousing makes you feel in control, then losing the fight makes you give  _up_  control?”

Bitty tucked his head against Holster’s pec. “It sounds dumb when you say it like that.”

“Bits, I’m not making fun,” Holster said, tilting Bitty’s head up with two fingers under his chin. “If we do this again, maybe we should, like, set boundaries. Rules. Have a safeword. Shit like that.”

Bitty nodded, biting his lip. “You want to do that again?”

“Well, chyeah,” Holster said incredulously. “Last night was  _hot_.”

“Oh.” Bitty smiled at him, shy and excited. “Yeah, it really was, wasn’t it?”

“I haven’t been able to just- fucking let  _go_  in a long ass time,” Holster continued, grinning goofily at Bitty. “That was great.”

“Mhmm,” Bitty said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of contentment. “Hell of a first time, huh?”

“Wait, that was your  _first time_?” Holster all but shouted, sitting up a bit straighter. “Dude, you should’ve told me, I would’ve-”

“Treated me like a child, like every other guy who’s ever tried to hook up with me,” Bitty said sharply.

“Being careful can be a good thing, Bits,” Holster sighed. “Especially when you’re having sex for the  _first time_.”

“Well next time won’t be the first time,” Bitty said. “So now you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Bits.” Holster wanted to keep arguing, but he was so warm and relaxed, the urge to snuggle into Bitty’s side and go back to sleep won. “We need to talk about this later, when I’m not so comfortable.”

“If you say so,” Bitty laughed, and let Holster sling an arm over his stomach. “Last night was what I wanted, so don’t get all freaked out or anything, okay?”

“Sure, Bits,” Holster murmured, tucking his head under Bitty’s chin. “But we’re coming up with a fucking safeword, okay?  _Apple pie_ , okay? Or, wait, fuck, you’d probably be into talking about pie during sex, huh?”

“Shut  _up_ ,” Bitty whined, poking Holster’s cheek. “Stop chirping me and get to cuddling, mister.”

“Paula Deen–you hate her, right?” Holster squeezed Bitty’s waist. “That’s our safeword.  _Paula Deen_.”

Bitty snorted and ran a hand through Holster’s hair. “Alright. Whatever you say.”

They fell silent for a few minutes, Bitty scratching at Holster’s scalp and Holster rubbing circles into Bitty’s hip with his thumb. Then Holster asked, “Hey, Bits?”

“Mhmm?”

“If I promise to blow you when you get back, will you go get the leftover pie from the kitchen and bring it up here? I’m starving.”

He could almost hear Bitty rolling his eyes. “Fine. But only because I’m hungry, too.”

“Thanks, babe,” Holster said, grinning as Bitty rolled out of bed and grabbed a pair of sweats. He was gone and back in what felt like seconds, and when he returned, he was wearing a shirt.  _Holster’s_  shirt.

“You left this in the kitchen,” Bitty said, peeling it off again as he handed Holster the pie tin. “It’s been on the floor so it’s kind of sticky. Ew.”

Holster pulled Bitty to sit between his legs so they could share the pie. “Too bad,” he said through a mouthful of mixed berry. “It looked hot on you.”

Bitty kissed his cheek. “I guess I’ll just have to steal a clean one, then.”

Holster bit his lip; this was veering into dangerous boyfriend territory, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. “I guess you will.”

Bitty scooped up a huge bite of pie and leaned back against Holster. Holster rested his chin on Bitty’s shoulder, relishing the solid warmth of his body. There wasn’t much better than being totally relaxed around someone, Holster decided. Maybe eating pie naked in bed. Maybe all of that at once. He saved the last bite for Bitty, then ducked down to taste the ghost of it on Bitty’s tongue, warm and sweet and a little sharp.

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out my free online novel, [The Discourt Knife,](thediscourtknife.com) and its tumblr [here.](thediscourtknife.tumblr.com)


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